


Last Minute Matinee

by elendri



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:10:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elendri/pseuds/elendri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Backstage grappling. Mmyep that's pretty much it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Minute Matinee

There’s a rap on Nezumi’s dressing room door right before he hears someone shouting, “Fifteen minute warning! Get your ass to the stage!”

Nezumi makes a face in the direction of the door, but obediently sets down his video game. He knows he probably should have been running through his lines rather than virtually slicing his way through monsters and demons, but since he was blackmailed into taking the dullest role in the history of theater, he couldn’t muster up the motivation. 

Besides, the unexpectedly delightful hand-held device that simulated destruction and mayhem was a gift from Shion. He had presented it to Nezumi before he’d left the city with the other delegates of No. 6. 

Reminded for the billionth time that he hasn’t seen or spoken to—much less _touched_ —the other man in a week, Nezumi slouches out of his dressing room and reluctantly follows the corridor in the direction of the stage. 

He’s just passing the restroom when a hand snakes out, grabs his tie, and yanks him through the doorway. 

Nezumi’s too startled to even say, “What the _hell_ ,” before he finds himself pressed up against the closed door, hands clawing down his chest and a mouth sucking fervently on his neck. 

“ _Shion_ ,” Nezumi moans. “When the hell did you get back?” 

Shion brushes his lips against Nezumi’s jaw, hands skimming his collarbone. “About ten minutes ago,” he murmurs, nipping Nezumi’s chin. 

And then his hands are raking through Nezumi’s hair, twisting and pulling and wrenching Nezumi’s head down into a scorching kiss, all hot breath and slick tongues and scraping teeth. Nezumi snarls and Shion whimpers and Nezumi doesn’t realize he’s been bucking his hips until he feels Shion’s thigh slide between his for him to rut against. 

Shion threads his fingers through the belt loops of Nezumi’s pants, grinding mindlessly against him. Nezumi pushes two fingers into Shion’s mouth because _fuck_ Shion is always so vocal and he can hear people passing by this restroom and avoiding an interruption is the most important fucking thing in the world right now. 

Shion’s lavishing appreciation on Nezumi’s fingers, biting and licking and sucking and running his lips over them in a more-than-suggestive manner. Nezumi groans into his neck, mouth wet and slippery as he works it down Shion’s throat. “I missed you,” he whispers against Shion’s skin. 

Shion cries out something that might be _Missed you too_ or _Nezumi_ or _Fuck_ but Nezumi doesn’t waste another thought on it as Shion grabs his face and pulls him down for another kiss, hard and messy. They’re pulled up flush against one another so Nezumi can feel the trembling throughout Shion’s body as he bucks up against him, murmuring nonsense words against Nezumi’s lips. 

And then Nezumi hears the stagehand hollering down the hallway for him and he snaps back to the present, groaning in exasperation as he pushes Shion away from him. “Your timing is impeccable,” he snaps as he rushes to the mirror; just how obvious is it that he’s been fooling around in the toilets like a hormonal teenager? 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I just couldn’t wait to see you, I’m sorry,” Shion babbles as he hurries to help Nezumi straighten his clothes. 

Nezumi sighs and twists around to plant a shut-up-now kiss against Shion’s lips. “It’s okay,” he says. “Funnily enough, I think that might’ve helped me.” 

Shion stares at him with bemusement, but Nezumi just smirks and shakes his head. He’s not about to try and explain that he’s felt like the walking dead all week; frottage is certainly one effective way to wake a man up. 

“You have to go,” Shion says hurriedly. “You’re going to make them panic if you don’t get up there soon.” 

Nezumi arches an eyebrow at him; Shion has the good grace to blush and duck his head and mutter more apologies. But then he glances up at Nezumi and a small smile touches his lips as he says, “See you at home later?” 

“Yes,” Nezumi replies, swooping in for one last kiss. As he jogs to the door, he throws a grin over his shoulder. “To be continued.”


End file.
